Page 37 of Heart of Snow
“I will forgive you your deception if you will forgive my boorish attack on your efforts,” he said. “It is noble that you want to save your brother. He’s blessed to have a sister so willing to help him.”
With one hand still holding mine, he lifted his other to brush back the hair at my temple and tuck it behind my ear. I stilled under his touch. The buzz, the hum during our ride to the mines returned. As his fingers lingered at the hollow of my ear, then cautiously skimmed down my neck to my collarbone, my eyes flashed to his face. His gaze remained lowered, watching hisfingers trace the skin of my neck. What was he playing at? This couldn’t be real, could it?
He spoke softly. “But you don’t need training to win a man’s admiration. Your goodness can’t be hidden beneath your quiet facade. It is always there, brimming, almost begging men to love you.” He lifted his chin, and our gazes locked, my breath becoming ragged as his eyes held me captive. When he slowly leaned his face toward mine, my mind was in tumult. Had Friedrich just admitted to loving me? Wasn’t he angry? Did he truly forgive me? Was he really about to kiss me?
Was I about to kiss him?
I didn’t move toward him or away, didn’t incline or duck my head.
I wouldn’t kiss him, but I wouldn’t stop him from kissing me.
I closed my eyes and waited.
And waited.
Until I opened my eyes to find Friedrich a few steps away, leaning against the door with his arms folded across his chest. His all-too-satisfied smile made my cheeks, neck, and ears burn with a sudden flood of heat.
“It seems I’m not too inept at enticing a woman, after all,” he said. “But I agree with Mistress Hatzfeld. You’ll certainly need to improve your skills if you plan to play this game with the court elite. At least keep your guard higher to avoid being taken a fool. After all, I am but a humble servant with—as you say—little skill in the art of wooing.”
Huffing with anger and humiliation at being taken in by his pretense, I looked around the room for something to throw at him. Just as I retrieved the French volume from the chair, he skittered out the door. My breath still hadn’t calmed when he poked his head back in the room.
“By the by,” he said, “we can end the hunting lessons, obviously, but I still expect you to uphold your part of the bargain and tutor me. Farewell.”
He closed the door just in time to avoid the flying book.
***
Friedrich
I somehow found enough self-control to pull the library door closed with only a click instead of the thunderous slam the countess deserved.
Mistress Hatzfeld looked up from her embroidery to give me a forced smile. I gave her one of my own, then took smooth, measured steps down the corridor. I couldn’t focus on anything but keeping my facade of calm as I paced into the courtyard, passing Bernhold on my way to the kennels.
“Clouds are gatherin’,” he said. “Make sure to fasten up against the rain.”
I nodded but kept my sights straight ahead, ducking into the kennels and stepping around the dogs to throw my cap on my makeshift bed of straw and blankets. Klumpen stood and stretched, wagging his tail, and I dropped down beside him. Resting my elbows on my knees, I ran my fingers through my hair before suddenly turning and fisting my pillow. Then I fisted it twice more. Klumpen startled, barking at me, and I took a deep breath, smoothing a hand down his back until he’d calmed.
How dare the countess? How could she use me thus? I thought her different, better than her noble peers, but she was just as self-serving as the rest.
At the very least, I was grateful I’d schooled my anger in her presence. To expose my rage would have exposed my deluded attachment to her. How could I have been such a fool, letting myself care for her? Putting aside my distrust of her kind and our complete inequality of class, I’d already known herplans to leave for Brussels and probably never return. That, by itself, should have been enough to keep me from forming any attachment, but despite my best efforts, I’d lost the battle between logic and inclination.
But she didn’t seem capable of that kind of deception. I’d seen her faults. She was too naive, certainly. That she’d need lessons in flirtation showed how totally innocent she was. Too trusting, obviously. She should have suspected my false advances, but she believed me to be sincere.
Maybe because Iwasbeing sincere.
I rolled my eyes. My mind never failed to dole out uncomfortable truths when I least wanted to hear them.
Certainly, holding her hand and speaking those words hadn’t taken much imagination or great feats of pretense. I’d unwillingly spent the last month and more preparing for the part, constantly fighting my admiration for her courage and kindness or battling thoughts of her ivory skin beneath my fingers. It had taken more self-command than I’d mustered in a lifetime to step back from Margaretha while she stood there, eyes closed and lips poised and waiting. I’d had to tack myself against the door for safety, but there was no stopping my hands from shaking. I could only bury them in my folded arms and hope she didn’t see through my weakness. That she saw only untroubled, unattached confidence.
Unbuttoning my jerkin, I pulled out the well-worn paper, trying to make out the French scrawls in the dark kennels, but the words were still too advanced for my beginner’s knowledge.
How many more lessons would I have to endure before I could understand the letter? How could I face the countess now? If I’d ever toyed with the idea of trusting her to read its contents to me, such an idea was entirely dead. Only nobility knew how to read the French language, and I would never again trust a noble. Had I enough money to leave Wildungen altogether, mayhap Icould forget this nonsense with the count and live a better life, but I was still months away from any escape.
Thunder rumbled outside, and the clouds broke, sending rain pattering down onto the kennels and in through the wide-open shutters I’d forgotten to fasten down. Klumpen buried himself under my pillow, and with the way he was shaking, I didn’t have the heart to send him off. Pushing myself to my feet with a sigh, I got to work tying the shutters closed while drops of rain pelted my hands and face. As I tied down the last shutter and wiped my forehead on my sleeve, I knew I had no choice but to keep my current plan. Once I had enough knowledge of the French language to read the letter and had saved enough money to become a bowyer’s apprentice, I could finally confront the count, then disappear from Wildungen and the countess’s life forever.
Chapter 16
Friedrich
